


The Truth

by Elwenn_dreaming



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Irondad, Kidnapping, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange 2020, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, rated T but not sure it deserves it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elwenn_dreaming/pseuds/Elwenn_dreaming
Summary: Peter and Tony got kidnapped. It's raining, and the cell's walls are damp. And they want to get out, obviously.For the prompt "Peter and Tony are kidnapped".Mostly I tried to combine a plot and mindless h/c, and I'm not too sure about the result but hey.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	The Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LBIGreygound13](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=LBIGreygound13).



> So this is my first fanfic ever, and honestly it's not very good. As we say in French, it has neither tail nor head but hopefully it's grammatically correct.

A dripping sound. That’s the first thing that came to Peter’s mind. Funny, how his hearing comes to awareness first, when there was so many more important informations to be obtained otherwise. For example, by concentrating on his smell he could have identified that distinctive scent of wet dirt and closed space characteristic of cellars, as well as a faint smell of rain. Touch could have informed him of a clay floor littered with gravels that dug in his back and thighs and of the length of rough rope tied around his wrists and ankles. And his sight would have told him of grey stone walls, of a small barred window underneath the roof wich seemed to be on floor level, and near a gutter judging by the irregular flow of water running down the wall and the aforementioned dripping sound, and of Tony Stark’s prone form on the ground. So really, hearing wasn’t that primordial, thought Peter.  
Wait. He froze. Prone form?  
‘Mr Stark? Can you hear me?’  
Well fuck. Prone he was, and prone he stayed. Still. Unmoving. Unresponsive. You get the idea.  
Peter sat up, a task quite complicated by his hands tied behind his back and his fuzzy head. The world swam before his eyes and he had to close his eyes, swallowing to keep back the nausea. He then crawled to the man’s side, letting out a shaky breath at the sight of his chest rising and falling, though slowly, at least regularly. Peter sat himself against the wall and thought.  
They were not here voluntarily, and were in fact both tied up. Most likely kidnapped, then. He had been uncounscious, but not for too long, as it was still day outside. He doubted he could have been unconscious until the next day, as their unknown captors had no mean to know he was spiderman, they would not have adjusted the drug dose. Which explained why he was conscious while Mr Stark was not. That was good news, too, it meant said man’s state was not preoccupying. Probably not.  
This being said, there was still the matter of getting out of here. On the bright side, their captors didn’t know his secret identity, and that put him at an advantage. On the less bright side, he didn’t think he could go very far while carrying an unconscious Iron Man on the back. Even with his super strength and enhanced healing factor, he would have to wait a bit until the world went back to a reasonably stable state, so breaking out of an unknown place with Mr Stark out cold to carry and potential baddies all around was out of the question.  
He studied their cell to pass the time. The ceiling was about ten feet high, and the window quite narrow. An adult man would not be able to pass through. A teenager, maybe. The rain bothered him, but he could not place why. Maybe because the humidity was filling the cell and infiltrating into his very bones, chilling the April air, so that he soon began to shiver. Everything was slightly damp.  
The door. Why had he not thought about the door sooner? Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, the kidnappers, not knowing of his super strength, would have made a door weak enough that he could kick it down when they would be ready to leave. He glanced hopefully. Nope, the wooden door looked thick enough, and he couldn’t see any lock, which meant it was probably barred (because what kidnapper would leave an open door, right?) and more importantly, that they couldn’t pick it. He sighed dejectedly.

Peter didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. It was still day, so it couldn’t have been that long as it should have been at least mid-afternoon when he woke up. It felt longer though. His head had cleared up, so there was that. He heard a groan.  
‘Mr Stark? It’s me, Peter, we’re in a cell I think, but it’s not a prison cell don’t worry. Actually it means we’ve been kidnapped so maybe it should worry you more. i’m just rambling, soory. Are you awake?  
\- No I’m not. Hmph. Head feels all funny.’ Tony wriggled unsuccessfully. ‘I’m tied up. Why am I tied up?  
\- That might be the kidnapping part.  
\- Oh. Right.’  
Peter promptly filled him in, though it did seem to him that Tony was not yet fully aware of everything. Drugs do that to you.  
‘I’m pretty sure I can break that rope, they didn’t take spidey into account. I don’t quite know about going out though.’ He let out a small groan. The rope was no match to his enhanced strength, but the position was not ideal and it dug painfully in the flesh of his wrists. He then quickly undid his and his mentor’s ties. ‘I don’t think we can go far until your dizziness has passed at the very least.  
\- Dizziness? I’m perfectly fine, let’s get out of here.’  
Tony tried to stand up, but he was not half way up that he felt lightheaded, and would have fallen much ungracefully were it not for Peter, steadying him and gently guiding him to sit on the floor next to him.  
‘We can wait you know. Nothing’s urgent, laughed Peter.  
\- Yeah. Yeah of course.’  
Tony’s voice was quavering, breath shallow.  
‘Mr Stark? Mr Stark, are you okay?’  
Cold. The cold was slithering through his flesh, nesting in his bones, hissing in his hears. Or maybe it was just the voices, the pain in his chest, and the water, head in the water, dripping on the walls, and so, so cold.  
‘… ay? Do … me?’  
Tony became aware of a hand shaking his arm, and the hands were gripping him and forcing him under the water and… No. No. He had to breathe. It was Peter right next to him, he had to put his shit together before he noticed and…  
‘I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Just got a little dizzy, you were right. Can still feel the effects of whatever it was they drugged us with. Which is completely unfair, how come you are all fresh as a daisy while I get to feel like someone let a toddler play legos with my bowels?’  
Peter stared at him for longer than he would have liked, but eventually seemed to accept it.  
‘Right! So, about getting out… no lock to pick and I don’t quite think I could break it open. I mean, I can try, but it’s likely barred, and it’s solid oak.  
\- No, you’re right, we should try that window instead.  
\- No offense Mr Stark but I don’t think you could pass through it.  
\- Are you calling me fat, young man?’  
Peter blushed and avoided his eyes.  
‘I didn’t... that’s not what I meant, it’s just that...  
\- Stop, Pete! Just joking! I can’t pass through, but you can. So you climb that wall with those sticky fingers of yours, you get out of here and find help to arrest our new would-be supervillains, and get me out too.  
\- I’m not leaving you here alone!  
\- Right, because the both of us freezing to death in here is so much better. That was not a suggestion, Peter.’  
The teenager looked ready to object, but gave in to his mentor’s stern gaze. He obligedly climbed to the opening in the wall and put his hands on the windowsill. And stopped dead. He let himself fall to the ground, landing gracefully on his feet and turning towards the older mark.  
‘Looks like I won’t be able to pass either. It’s one of those windows that are wide from the inside and getting thinner on the outside. The wall is also much thicker than I expected, at least 3 feet thick.  
\- The door it is then. Kick it down, kid!’  
The teenager then broughed his shoulder to a not-quite-gentle contact with the door, which did not budge one bit. He repeated the action several times, but to no avail, until finally the hard wood started to splinter. He tore down the door as he could, and stopped dead.  
‘Kid? What is it?’  
Tony scrambled to his feet and walked – well, stumbled would be a more accurate term but not one he would ever admit to – to the door, a liitle pale after the few steps that brought the opening in his line of sight. He resigned himself to lean on Peter’s shoulder, as it was still slightly more dignified than falling on his ass.  
‘What. The. Fuck.’  
Behind the thick plancks of oak was a brick wall, which, if it did contrast to the old grey stone of the cell, looked like it had been there for quite some time, and was solid enough.  
‘Seriously? The window, then that? Who the fuck does that?  
\- Yeah but, Mr Stark, if the door is not a door and the window is not large enough… How did we get here? A secret door?  
\- You know what? Probably.’ He laughed. ‘A secret door. I love secret doors. Although putting a false door on top of it is a bit of an overshoot, don’t you think?  
\- Definitly. No sense of style, said Peter in a very serious tone.  
\- Better go and find it then. Now, if I were a secret door, where would I go?’

It was only after a long search that they had to admit to the evidence, there was no secret door.

Tony let himself slide down the wall. Although the effects of the drug had past, he still felt uneasy at the thought of being stuck. He looked at his hand in wonder. It was trembling slightly. Now that he thought about it, his whole body was in fact shivering. A rythmic sound was echoing in his ears. Only after a while did he understand that it was his teeth chattering. The cold and damp spring day air seemed to be sucking all the warmth out of him. On the other side of the room was Peter, eyes closed, also sitting against the wall. Only his fingers tapping against his knee betrayed that he was not asleep. He seemed to be unbothered by the cold. Which was really unfair in Tony’s opinion.  
Cold and damp spring day air.  
Tony froze, thoughts twirling around his mind like fireflies, too quick for him to grasp but fragments, eventually all coming together to form a picture out the jigsaw puzzle pieces. In front of him Peter suddenly jumped to his feet and all but shouted :  
‘Something’s wrong!  
\- Yeah. The light. We have been searching for at least two hours, and I was awake for maybe an hour before. And you have been awake for even longer.  
\- At least an hour, maybe two I’d say. And it was around three or four pm that we were taken.  
\- Which leads us to a bare minimum of seven pm, given that we don’t know how long you’ve been out for. Given your metabolism and the time I spend uncounscious alone, it is unlikely that it be more than two hours. So somewhere between eight and eleven pm.  
\- And it’s still day.  
\- Furthermore, it wasn’t raining anywhere around New York. Not in a 200 mile radius.  
\- And the walls. Where do you even find walls that thick in the US?  
\- And nobody in their right mind would build that type of window on floor level.’  
They shared a long glance.  
‘There is no door, they said at the same time.  
\- We cannot be here. And yet here we are, mused Tony.  
\- Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.  
\- I didn’t know you read Sherlock Holmes. But that would mean…  
\- We are, in fact, not here, said Peter. And there was steel in his voice, an unstoppable result.  
\- Then where are we? And why do we think we are here?  
\- I don’t know, a simulation? A magical illusion? Can’t be a drug, we would not hallucinate together. More important, how do we get out of it? Do you have a red pill or something?’

Tony woke with a gasp. He was shirtless, in dimly lit, narrow space. Electrodes were linked to his temples, chest and arms. He tried to shake himslef free of them, but his wrist were bound to the bottom of the sarcophagus-like box he was in. He felt panic rise, trying harder and harder to get himself out of his restraints, but only succeeding in wounding the skin of his wrists. His breaths were shallow and frenetic, and tears began to stream down his face, uncontrollable. He tried to force himself to count, but the numbers were drowned by the voices of long-gone people, and how could he breathe anyway, when there was water around him, and in his nose and his mouth, and there was no air in space, and he was gasping uselessly. He could not move and he watched helplessly as his arc reactor was taken from his chest.  
The lid was ripped open, and hands were gently removing the electrodes, and freeing his wrists. He raised them, trying to protect his chest, to push away the hands that were forcing him underwater. To his suprise they retreated immediately, and there was a voice, asking him to breathe, and counting again. His breathing slowed down eventually, and he felt the hands on his back, helping him out of wretched box. He stumbled, and someone was here, catching him, and lowerig gim to sit on the ground.  
‘Peter…?  
\- It’s me Mr Stark. You’re okay. We’re out of it now. We should hurry though. I knocked out the guy that was here, but others might come. Can you stand now?’  
Tony felt himself blush in shame. Now was really not the time, and Peter shouldn’t have had to deal with that.  
‘I’m good.’  
He grabbed the hand Peter lend him nonetheless, and quickly got on his feet.  
‘Let’s get out of here. And… kid… Thanks.’  
Peter looked at him, and then smiled.  
‘Let’s kick some baddies’ asses!  
\- Language!  
-I’m gonna do as if you didn’t just say that Mr Syark.’  
He ruffled Peter’s hair affectionately. He grabbed the torn door and smiled. It was high time they escaped, they didn’t want to stain their statistics.


End file.
